


we come alive with the fireflies

by trishapocalypse



Category: One Direction (Band), The 1975 (Band)
Genre: (mentioned rly), 69 (Sex Position), Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Hand Jobs, M/M, it's p much just a bunch of excerpts and idk how this happened, ummm a little bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 09:27:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1683374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trishapocalypse/pseuds/trishapocalypse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Where are we headed?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Harry shrugged, eyes falling to Matty’s lips. “Does it matter?”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>(Or: an AU where Harry and Matty meet at the train station and run away together...for a few days, anyway.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	we come alive with the fireflies

**Author's Note:**

> The summary is shit. I don't even know what this fic is anymore, haha. It was meant to be one little excerpt for my pal, Alex, purple heart emoji, who was having a bad week and then...it turned into this? Blatant disregard for the geography of England because I'm a silly American who doesn't know any better. Harry's 17 and Matty's 22. The usual applies: this never happened, huge apologies, you're all lovely, etc.
> 
> tumblr: @trishanthemum let's be paaaaals :) :) :)

Matty wasn’t exactly going anywhere. He wasn’t sure how he found himself in the tube station, staring at the wall in front of him, but he was brought back to reality when a tall, lanky body ran into his, nearly knocking him over. He steadied himself and found hands on his biceps, holding him up, and he turned around, fully prepared to give the wanker a piece of his mind and—

“Sorry, mate,” the boy stumbled, cheeks pink and eyes bright, voice low and slow. “I wasn’t paying attention and, by the looks of it, neither were you.”

Matty licked his lips and took a step back, eyeing the boy up and down, before nodding and lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “Sounds about right,” he agreed. 

The boy smiled, releasing Matty’s shoulders and running a hand through his unruly curls. “Headed somewhere?” he asked.

Matty couldn’t help the small smile that took over his face; he hoisted the strap of his bag a little further up his shoulder. “Not at all,” he admitted.

“Me neither,” the boy said, still grinning, and he reached for Matty’s shoulder, pulling him back so they could both stare at the board in front of them. “Where should we go?”

“We?”

“Of course,” he told him. “You’re going nowhere, I’m going nowhere, let’s…go nowhere together.”

Matty nodded slowly as if it made perfect sense. He tried to look at the board, the cities and times blurring together, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt the boy’s fingers slide through his own, palms touching, his grip tightening. “You—“

“Found it. Let’s go.”

Matty didn’t have the time to ask questions, he just let the brown-haired, green-eyed boy with the messy curls and crater-deep-dimple drag him through the tube station. He stuck a hand through the doors right before they closed, dragging Matty on with him; Matty fell against his chest and heard the boy giggle. He looked up to see his eyes bright and glanced down upon realizing they were still holding hands. 

“I’m Harry,” the boy told him, tugging Matty a little closer.

Matty stepped between the boy’s long legs, crowding against him even though there was more than enough room for the two of them. “Matty,” he offered, a little breathless. 

Harry smiled.

“Where are we headed?”

Harry shrugged, eyes falling to Matty’s lips. “Does it matter?”

Matty supposed it didn’t. 

 

+

 

Matty lost track of time easily with the feeling of Harry’s warm fingers pressed against the small of his back. The train ride was short and, for all Matty boasted in life about being observant and the like, he was feeling embarrassingly dim as Harry reached for his hand again and pulled him off the train.

“Let’s go this way,” Harry decided, pointing towards the left. He looked back at Matty with wide eyes, expecting.

“Alright,” Matty agreed, following in Harry’s footsteps as he made his way down the sidewalk. “Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“How old are you?” The question had been nagging at Matty since he met the lad (so, well, about thirty minutes) and he had to _know._ He had to know if he was spending his day with some underage lad with a dimple that Matty would do anything for; he was pretty sure if Harry smiled at him and asked him to rob a bank at that point, that he would agree without realizing is. And, really, he had no reason to trust Harry, had no reason to follow him on the train, and he definitely had no reason to follow him around Heathrow, but he _was._

Harry smiled at him over his shoulder. “I’m legal, Matty, I promise,” he told him with a wink.

Matty rolled his eyes, smiling softly. “I’m—“

“Have you ever been to Chorleywood?” Harry asked suddenly, stopping in front of a bus station.

Matty hesitated and shook his head. “No.”

“Let’s go. My sis—“ Harry paused, frown lines appearing on his forehead, but they were gone in an instant as he forced a smile and a little laugh. “My mate said there’s a really good pub there. We could get a drink.”

He had the distinct feeling that if he asked Harry what was going on that he wouldn’t respond. And he was positive that Harry needed a distraction or an escape, and he wasn’t the only one. Matty’s thoughts drifted back to his now-empty flat, the only signs that anyone else had ever lived there were gone, and he didn’t want to go back home. He didn’t want to go back to a flat that he had shared with someone for over a year because it was empty, he _felt_ so empty now, and— If Harry wanted a distraction, then Matty _needed_ one.

“Matty?” Harry asked, tilting his head to the side as the bus pulled up to the curb. 

“Hmm?”

“Do you trust me?”

Matty grinned and shook his head, laughing. “Not at all.”

Harry giggled, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair. “Probably for the best,” he admitted, taking a step closer and leaning in, brushing their lips together quickly. 

Matty instantly leaned closer to him, reaching out to wrap an arm around Harry’s waist without even thinking about it. Harry’s lips were soft and insistent, and it had been _so long_ since Matty had kissed someone because he wanted to, not out of routine or habit. 

Harry pulled away as quickly as he had leaned in, smiling and brushing his fingertips against Matty’s jaw. “Drinks on me?”

“In Chorleywood,” Matty mumbled with a half-grin. 

Harry’s smile widened and he pressed his lips to Matty’s cheek, whispering a “let’s go” in his ear before dragging him towards the bus.

Matty briefly wondered if this would be the worst decision he ever made, but he was almost positive it was going to be the best. 

 

+

 

Matty shouldn’t have found the way Harry was scarfing down his sandwich to be endearing, especially with the way his hands were covered in grease, but it _was._ Harry was talking animatedly between bites, wild hand gestures and wide eyes, a little bit of food in the corner of his mouth, and Matty had never wanted to kiss someone more in his life. 

“Sometimes I just want to wander around and meet new people and be anyone but myself,” Hatty whispered after he paid the bill, reaching across the table to trail his fingertips over the back of Matty’s hand.

Matty flipped his palm over, slotting their fingers together, and leaned in. “Isn’t that what we’re doing now?”

Harry smiled.

 

+

 

Matty didn’t know why he suggested staying in a hotel for the night; it wasn’t as if he and Harry were too far away from a bus or a train to go back home. But as they lingered in front of the bus sign, Harry shifting from foot to foot and scuffing his brown boots across the pavement, the words fell from Matty’s lips before he could stop himself.

Harry looked over at him, head tilted down, almost shyly. “I’m sure you’ve someone to return home to,” he whispered instead of what was really on his mind, thoughts of _why would you want to spend more time with me_ and _please don’t go_ and _can we really?_

Matty shrugged. “I don’t, not really.” Which wasn’t exactly a lie, but it kind of was, because he had his mum and Louis and George and Adam and Ross but—then there was _Harry,_ and something about the boy made him want to stay, even if it wasn’t in one place, even if they were constantly on the move. 

Harry smiled slowly and, soon enough, it took up his own face, dimple deep in his cheek, and he leaned in to kiss Matty quickly, fingers twining in the curls at the base of Matty’s neck. “Yeah,” he whispered against his lips with a giggle. “Let’s stay.”

Matty wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist, pulling him back in. They could find a hotel later.

 

+

 

“No one’s ever wanted to spend time with me before,” Harry whispered against Matty’s neck hours later. The scratchy sheets of the duvet had been kicked down around their feet, all of their clothes strewn across the floor, the window open so the spring air could cool down the room. 

“No one?” Matty asked, fingertips drawing shapes on Harry’s lower back, just above the dimple that he had felt when Harry was sprawled across his lap an hour before, rutting against him until he came in his pants with a breathy little laugh and pink cheeks and no shame. 

Harry shook his head, curling his body around Matty’s and throwing a leg over his bare waist. His fingers were tight around Matty’s bicep as he tried to make himself smaller, take up less space. “Like, I never had many mates, yeah?”

Matty didn’t respond, he didn’t nod or hum or anything, because he wasn’t going to pressure Harry into being open with him. Hell, he’d known the lad for a total of twelve hours; he had no right to expect anything of him. 

“I had a few, actually,” Harry corrected. “But it didn’t turn out well.”

“They rarely do,” Matty said softly, bitterly, even though his mind was calling him a liar because he _had,_ friends, but he didn’t have much else. He didn’t want the bitter part of him to take over and make Harry feel small because Matty was older and had more life experience or whatever—that didn’t mean _shit._ He just didn’t want Harry sad, and he didn’t know _why._

“Are you—“ Harry stopped himself, swallowing. “Are you my friend?”

Matty smiled, the question hanging heavy in the air. He slid a hand up Harry’s back, scratching at the nape of his neck before sliding around to his jaw, tilting his face up. He could see the innocence in Harry’s eyes, and he nearly questioned the _I’m legal, Matty, I promise_ that easily fell from his lips hours before because he looked so _young_ and scared and _hurt._ “Sure,” he nodded.

Harry smiled then, cheeks flushing as he tilted his head down. “Sorry, I—I’ve been told I’m a little too eager.”

“No such thing,” Matty reassured him.

“Good,” he whispered, sitting up slowly. He bit at his lower lip for a moment before he climbed on top of Matty, straddling his slim hips and grinding down a little against him.

Matty cleared his throat; they had just gotten off an hour before but, hell, he could always go again, especially with the way Harry was looking down at him with hooded eyes and pouty lips. 

“Can I—Can I blow you?” Harry asked shyly.

“Yeah,” Matty breathed out easily.

Harry grinned, Matty’s answer seeming to give him a little bit more confidence as he rocked against him, his prick easily filling up at the pressure. “Then you can—then you can blow me, right?”

Matty chuckled a little, sliding his hands up Harry’s thighs to grip his hips. “Or we could try something a little different,” he suggested.

Harry’s cheeks flushed, whether it was from arousal or embarrassment, Matty didn’t know and didn’t _care._ “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, slapping at Harry’s thigh. “Want me to blow you while you blow me?” 

Harry couldn’t stop the curse that slipped past his lips as he nodded quickly, curls falling into his face. “Yeah, yes, fuck,” he whispered with another nod. “How—“

Matty smiled. “Turn around, yeah? And just—“ He didn’t even have time to finish his sentence before Harry was turning around and allowing Matty to drag him backwards until he was straddling his face, Matty’s prick nudging against his cheek. Matty couldn’t help but admire his eagerness, but the grin fell from his face the second Harry’s lips touched his cock.

 

+

 

Matty woke up at the crack of dawn to sunshine streaming across his face and Harry breathing against his neck. He blindly reached across the nightstand for his glasses, slipping them up his nose and looking down at Harry again. He couldn’t stop himself from reaching over and brushing his curls out of his eyes, away from his cheeks that were still flushed, the image of Harry panting with tears in his eyes at Matty licked him open, spreading him with his tongue until he came with a broken cry burned into his mind for the rest of his days. Harry shifted in his sleep, nudging a little closer to Matty; Matty pulled his glasses off and tossed them towards the nightstand, barely cringing when he heard them fall to the floor. He pulled the thin little sheet over top of their bodies and pressed his lips to Harry’s cheek, just wanting to be _close_ to him.

 

+

 

“We don’t have to leave yet, do we?” Harry asked quietly from where he was sat on the bed, blankets pulled tight around his shoulders. He tucked his chin against his knees and stared up at Matty with wide eyes, desperately wanting the older boy to agree, say they didn’t have to leave, say they could _stay._ And Harry couldn’t explain why he felt so at ease around someone he had known for less than forty-eight hours, but he did, and it was something he hadn’t felt in a while, and he wanted to hold onto it.

Matty swallowed and glanced up at Harry; he thought about the unanswered texts from George on his mobile ranging from _where the fuck are ya mate_ to _hope she’s good in bed_ to _or he, could be a him, too, knowin’ you, aha_ to _the lads and me, we understand if you need time_ and he had never been so thankful for a friend like George. He took one look at Harry’s eyes and dropped his bag, kicking it aside, and he crawled onto the bed, twisting his fingers in Harry’s curls and pulling him in for a kiss.

Harry whimpered against his lips, wrapping his fingers around Matty’s wrists, sighing when he pulled away. “Matty?”

“We can stay, babe,” he whispered, “if that’s what you need.”

“Need _you,_ ” he mumbled shyly, flushing, and he ducked his head again. “Is that weird?”

One corner of Matty’s lips quirked upwards and he shook his head, running his knuckles down the side of Harry’s face, across his cheek, until he could tap his fingertips against his pink lips. “No,” he said resolutely, “it’s not. You might be,” he added with a quiet laugh, grinning when Harry pouted up at him.

“Mean,” Harry muttered, but he was smiling, and he slid his fingers from Matty’s wrists to his palms, linking their fingers together. “I think—“ he hesitated, shaking his head. “I think I was meant to find you.”

Matty shrugged, nudging at Harry’s knee as he lay down next to him, pulling the younger boy on top of him. Harry went easily, the blanket bunching up between them as Harry slipped a leg over Matty’s waist, head finding his shoulder in a way that was still too new to be considered routine. 

“I bet you don’t believe in that sort of thing—“

“I don’t,” Matty interrupted.

“But I do,” Harry added. “And I think I was.”

Matty let go of one of Harry’s hands, wrapping an arm around his waist. His knuckles nudged the dimples at Harry’s lower back, fingertips slipping underneath the waistband of his pants, the only clothes he had been wearing for days since the two of them had been holed up in the hotel room. “Maybe,” Matty relented, because he figured it was what Harry needed to hear, wanted to hear, and maybe—just maybe—because he _might’ve_ believed it, too. 

Harry hesitated for a minute, then two, before he released Matty’s hand and pulled away for a moment. He climbed out from under the blankets and crawled on top of Matty, straddling his waist and reaching for the zip of his jeans. “Take these off.”

Matty nodded, pushing the fabric down his hips, kicking his jeans aside. He wasn’t exactly the best person in the world to tell Harry not to use sex as a distraction—he wasn’t a _hypocrite._ And if that’s what Harry wanted or needed, it wasn’t exactly a hardship on Matty’s part to indulge him.

Harry stared at him for a minute before leaning down to press his lips against Matty’s stomach, running his tongue along the thick trail of hair beneath his navel. Matty’s fingers twisted into the sheets as he exhaled; Harry pressed a line of feathery light kisses up Matty’s chest until his face was tucked against his neck and their bodies were pressed together. 

Matty wrapped his hands around the back of Harry’s thighs, smoothing across the soft skin, and he tilted his head to the side enough to catch Harry’s eyes. “Alright?”

“No,” Harry grumbled, sliding a hand up Matty’s jaw and pulling him in for a kiss, losing himself in the moment until he felt Matty’s fingers digging into the curve of his bum. He pulled away slowly, licking his lips, and he sighed. “My sister outed me a couple of days ago. I—I kissed her boyfriend because I—I wanted to know what it would be like, you know? To kiss a boy. And he—he told her. She was so upset, she just…outed me in front of the family, some of our friends, and I didn’t—I didn’t even know if I _was_ or not, y’know? I just—I just—And my mum—“ he cut himself off with a sharp intake of breath, curling against Matty’s side again and hiding his face. “She was so upset with me, upset with Gemma, upset with all of it. So I just…left. I just needed— _need_ —a few days to just…be me, whoever that is,” he whispered.

“Shit.” Matty didn’t know what to _say_ to that; he never really came out as anything other than Matty. He’d dated birds, dated blokes, slept with whomever he wanted, and his mum never questioned it, his dad long out of the question, and George and the lads were just used to it after ten years of friendship. 

“I just wanted to figure it out.”

“And…you felt like that had been taken away from you, like…they figured it out for you, like they knew who you were supposed to be before you even knew yourself,” Matty whispered.

“Yeah,” Harry said with a sigh, “exactly. I—I wanted to be sure, and I wasn’t.”

“And now?” Matty asked.

“Now I’m sure,” he admitted with a soft smile.

 

+

 

Matty apparently didn’t have Harry’s ability to block out the incessant ringing of his mobile phone at half-seven in the morning, no matter how hard he tried. He groaned and pulled away from Harry, hand reaching for the nightstand and grabbing Harry’s mobile. “Harry,” he grumbled, shaking his shoulder and holding the mobile out. “C’mon, answer the bloody thing.”

“No,” Harry mumbled, cracking one eye open long enough to see that it was his mum calling. He frowned, staring at the screen, until it went black and stopped ringing. 

Matty sighed, pulling the blanket over his head. 

“Matty,” Harry whispered, crawling under the blanket and attaching himself to Matty’s side, pressing his lips to his chest. “I’m sorry—“

Matty groaned as Harry’s mobile started ringing again. 

“I’ll answer it,” Harry promised, leaning in to kiss him. 

“Mmm, you better,” Matty whispered against his lips. “I’ll give you some privacy, yeah?”

Harry whined, reaching for Matty as he climbed out of bed. “Matty—“

“I’m just gonna shower, babe,” he told him, kissing his forehead. “Answer your phone.”

Harry pouted as he watched Matty walk off towards the bathroom, but he answered his mobile anyway, knowing he had to face the music at some point.

Matty heard Harry answer as soon as he shut the bathroom door; he didn’t to think about the conversation Harry was having with his mum, knew it wasn’t any of his business, and he climbed into the shower without a second thought. He stood under the warm spray for seconds, minutes, he didn’t keep track of time, didn’t _care,_ and he was shaken out of his reverie by the curtain being pulled aside and another body joining his. He turned around instantly in Harry’s arms, finding his lips without even searching for them, kissing him under the hot spray until Harry was melting against his chest, fingers grabbing at his hips. “Harry—“

“I don’t wanna go back,” Harry interrupted, drawing Matty in for another kiss. “She wants me to come back.”

“She’s your mum, of course she does.”

Harry shook his head, ignoring Matty’s words and rubbing the back of his knuckles over his stomach, slipping down to palm at his cock. 

“H-Harry,” Matty started, clearing his throat, “you can’t stay away forever.”

“I know,” he grumbled, wrapping his fingers around Matty’s cock, jerking him slowly.

Matty swallowed, licking at his lips and wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist. “I’m sure she wouldn’t be happy to know that her eighteen year old son has spent the last three days in a shitty motel with some dirty twenty-something recovering coke addict who can’t keep his hands off you,” he told him with a self-deprecating grin. 

Harry grinned, reaching behind himself for Matty’s hand, pushing it further down until he could feel the blunt press of fingertips against his hole. “Seventeen.”

Matty froze. “What?”

“I’m seventeen,” Harry whispered with a smile, pushing at Matty’s wrist until he could feel two fingers slip inside. He let out a breathy sigh as Matty backed him up against the opposite wall of the shower, twisting his wrist until he was nudging against the little bundle of nerves that could turn Harry into a writhing mess in minutes. “Fuck, do that again.”

Matty smirked a little, teasing Harry with the tip of a third finger before pressing his lips against his neck, his collarbone, whatever he could reach. “Why’d you lie?”

“Didn’t think you’d—fuck—want to mess about with me if you knew,” Harry admitted, back arching as Matty bit at his shoulder.

“Not my fault you’re so goddamn pretty,” Matty whispered against his skin.

Harry whimpered, head falling back against the wall of the shower. “Matty, Matty, Matty, c’mon, take me to bed, yeah?”

Matty pulled back long enough to take in Harry’s flushed cheeks and he nodded, reaching over to shut off the water. “Yeah.”

 

+

 

Harry watched in silence as Matty packed his bag up, not that there was much _to_ pack since neither of them had a change of clothes and had essentially been naked for the past few days but— _still._

“I can feel you pouting at me,” Matty said quietly as he shoved his novel back in his bag. He glanced up and saw Harry frowning. “Babe—“

“It’s just—“ Harry cut himself off with a shake of his head. “I’ve enjoyed these last few days so much that I almost forgot you have a life back home…without me.”

“Not really,” Matty shrugged. “Just some mates who kind of want their singer back.”

Harry paused. “You’re in a band?”

Matty nodded.

“Of course you’re in a band,” Harry groaned, falling back against the mattress and pulling the pillow across his face. 

Matty smiled, walking over to the bed and climbing on top of Harry, reaching for the pillow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Harry started with a laugh as Matty wrestled the pillow away from his face, “that you look like a rock star.”

With a roll of his eyes, Matty tossed the pillow across the motel. “Do I?”

Harry nodded. “Does that make me a groupie?”

“Let us get an album out first and then we’ll see,” he declared, allowing Harry to pull him down into a cuddle. 

Harry nuzzled the side of his neck, rolling over onto his side and curling up against him; he figured that was what he would miss the most, if he was being completely honest—the feeling of having someone curled around him so close. 

Matty enjoyed the silence for a few moments, the way he could hear Harry’s heart humping in his chest, and he was content. Part of him didn’t want to leave, but he knew Harry had to get back home, knew George was probably smoking through his stash and had probably drank all of his wine by that point but—he didn’t _want_ to. “My bird and I broke up,” he said suddenly, quietly, as if he needed to fill the silence with something, with anything, and why not? Harry had been so honest with him about everything; Matty sort of owed it to him. 

“Why?”

“Just…grew apart, I guess,” Matty said with a shrug. “We sort of just…depended on each other because we were always there. We weren’t in love. She found someone else who needed her because I didn’t.”

Harry frowned, reaching up to push some of Matty’s hair out of his eyes, tucking it behind his ear. “Why do I get the feeling that you’ve never needed anyone?”

“Because I haven’t,” Matty told him with another shrug. “S’dangerous, yeah? Needing someone and then…you wake up one day and they’re not there anymore.”

“Not everyone leaves, Matty. Some people stick around,” Harry whispered.

“What if I’m the one that leaves?”

Harry bit at his lip. “Then maybe you haven’t found someone that you wanna stick around for.”

 

+

 

Harry was silent on the bus back to Heathrow, and Matty wasn’t stupid—he knew Harry didn’t want to leave Chorleywood, didn’t want to leave their little motel room that had become their home for five days, and part of him didn’t’ want to either. But they had to get back to reality, he supposed, though he wasn’t exactly looking forward to George takin’ the piss that Matty had been shagging a seventeen year old for almost a week. 

Matty almost didn’t notice that the bus had stopped until he felt Harry push past him and start to get off. He was after him quick enough, lacing their fingers together as Harry silently walked towards the tube station, frowning the whole way. Matty hitched the strap of his bag further up his shoulder and stopped walking, forcing Harry to stop and turn around. “Harry.”

Harry looked down at his feet and sighed. “What, Matty?”

“Where are you headed?”

“Cheshire.”

“That’s not too far.”

“From London?” Harry asked, eyebrows high on his forehead. “You’re daft.”

“I’m not going to London.”

Harry frowned. 

“I live in Manchester. I was just in London for a couple of days,” Matty explained.

“Oh.”

Matty smiled, tugging Harry closer to him, laughing as the boy nearly tripped over his own feet. “So, Manchester and Cheshire, that sounds doable, yeah?”

Harry bit his lip like he was trying to hold in a smile and he nodded vigorously, his curls bouncing, and he gave in, laughing and pulling Matty in for a quick kiss. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, kinda wanna…” Matty trailed off, clearing his throat, before looking down at Harry. And he leaned in to kiss him again, slow and sweet, fingers fisting in his curls as Harry sighed against his lips.

“Kinda wanna what?” Harry asked breathlessly against his mouth.

Matty smiled. “Kinda wanna stick around a little bit.”


End file.
